Just Like Anyone
by slashbutterfly
Summary: Songfic to Aimee Mann's "Just Like Anyone". Sequel-ish thing to "Always On My Mind." Post-major character death. Non-explicit minor Tibbs.


(A/N: So this is a little (meaning short) follow-up to _Always On My Mind_; I'm not quite sure why I bother, seeing as no-one much liked it, but the song's too good to waste (listen to it if you can find it – it's short and sad and very beautiful) and it just seems to fit, somehow. So I hope someone out there likes it, however angsty and OOC it is. For anyone who hasn't read _Always On My Mind_, I'd recommend you do, so it'll make sense, but if you can't be bothered the long and short of it is that Tony kills himself over Kate and Gibbs finds the body; there's a hint of Tibbs in his suicide note. As always, don't like, don't read.)

Just Like Anyone

_So maybe I wasn't _

_that good a friend_

_but you were one of us_

_And I will wonder _

_just like anyone_

_if there was something _

_else I could've done_

Gibbs pushed on the latch and swung the rusted iron gate open with one hand, listening to the creak as it swung back on its hinges and clicked shut. Inside, the air seemed quieter, somehow, though it was only separated from the road by a few metres of grass and a brick wall. Graveyards always seemed to have that effect.

He wandered along the gravelled paths, the shards of rock crunching under his scuffed shoes. The sound did not break the silence, but outlined it. The quiet seemed almost to calm the other sounds: a bird calling mournfully from a tree by the south wall stripped bare of its leaves; the rustle of his long coat as it blew about his legs in the breeze; the faint rumble of traffic on a main road somewhere nearby.

Reaching a corner, he moved off the path and onto the grass, walking slowly between the graves. He kept his eyes on the ground; he did not need to look up to find his way. It was drummed into his bones through the routine of many similar outings. Seven paces in he stopped, turned, and knelt by the familiar grave, the white headstone cold in the sun's pale light. Carefully, he removed the crinkled cellophane wrapping from his gift, and put the flowers gently down, one eye on the gold lettering of the inscription that he did not need to read another time to know what it said.

A sudden ray of sunlight caught one word, making it shine glaringly as if to catch his attention. He did not want to look, knowing full well what it said.

_Friend_.

But he himself hadn't been; not really. He had thought that they were, for a time; that night had changed everything. Friends don't ignore all the signs. He had never let a friend down quite that badly before. The image of Kate appeared in his mind's eye: he could see her lying there on the cold concrete, a perfectly circular hole in her forehead. He'd failed her. But she wasn't DiNozzo. She wasn't Tony. They'd worked together for years. He'd always had him on his six. And now there was no-one. They were both gone, dead and cold and buried under six feet of earth.

_So maybe it's true that _

_your cry for help_

_was oh, so very faint_

_but still I heard _

_and knew something was wrong_

_just nothing you could _

_put your finger on_

_and I will wonder _

_just like anyone_

_just like anyone_

He straightened up, and looked down at the flowers resting there, among the team's regular offerings. He knew he was not the only one who came up here; he also knew that he was the only one who came quite so often. Clearing his throat, he began to speak, as he always did. At first he'd felt foolish. Now he knew that it was just what he needed, to let out some little part of the guilt and grief and anger locked up inside his head.

"It's me again. Don't know what to say. Said sorry too many times already, but once more can't hurt. I let you down, Tony. Knew something was up. You weren't yourself. Too quiet, too unstable. Not like you. But I thought it was just part of the grieving process. Didn't know you were going to…"

Angrily, he shook his head. He wouldn't cry. Not here.

"Should have told me! Dammit, Tony, you should have come to me! Because now I'm left behind and I don't know what to do. I'm no good to the rest of them. Did you even think about what it would do to them? Abs, Ducky, even McGee? They hadn't even got over Kate's death, and then yours… Team needs you, Tony. And you're not coming back."

Rage spent, he hung his head, before swivelling on one foot and walking briskly away from the small plot that held the person he had loved most in the world. He did not notice that the gate did not close as he made his way to his car. And only a very observant watcher would have noticed the small wet patch on his coat collar that said it all.

(A/N: Angst much? Thinking about doing one more story to make it a nice little trilogy, if the word nice can really be applied here. Got any views?)


End file.
